


the lark's song

by windingwoods



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/F, M/M, Magical Coffee Shop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windingwoods/pseuds/windingwoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baterilla looks kind of quaint, soft with the particular brand of atmosphere some places come to radiate when the people who walk them do it with love in their tiptoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. something you consider rare

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically what happens when i start thinking about a fix-it scenario where everyone is alive but it's 3am and things take a bit of a detour... oh my god i haven't written multi-chapter stuff in forever Where Am I Going With This  
> anyway!! i have no idea of how did rebecca/shirahoshi happen to me but it did and i must say i quite like this development.  
> that said hope you enjoy!

The thing is, Rebecca really needs a job.

The thought has been gnawing a hole in her head for months by now, her college tuition gnawing another in her family’s savings, a constant stream of refusals and _we will let you know_ left dangling into nothing.

She’s got another sorry look to add to the collection just now; it weighs on her chest, makes her skin prickle like the sand finding its way under her clothes. She doesn’t know why she ended up sprawled on the beach with the salt water lapping at her heels in the middle of March but there she is.

It does feel somewhat calming though, somewhat like the knot in her stomach is getting slowly washed away, drowned by the riptide.

Then someone drops a ridiculously overpacked knapsack right beside her head.

“Hey!” Rebecca starts, kind of sputters because there’s sand in her mouth now, and in her eyes and what the hell, can’t a person just mope in peace––

“Ah, sorry about that!”

The owner of the disgraceful knapsack doesn’t quite sound like he’s sorry at all but he’s a kid (he looks her age, but older and younger at the same time, something restless tugging at his edges) and that knapsack must be really heavy, so Rebecca lets it be.

“It’s fine,” she says, a smile not as forced as she was expecting it to be sneaking up on her lips to mirror the grin the kid is flashing her.

“Isn’t it nice?” he asks, crouches down next to her with a huffing sound. “Lying down like this, I mean.”

He’s got a scar under his eye and a straw hat hanging down his back. He’s still smiling.

“Uh, yeah.” Rebecca wishes she could match him, really, but she still needs a job, the knot in her stomach is still there.

She grimaces. The kid notices.

“Are you okay?” And he sounds genuinely _concerned_ , this complete stranger who just got her a faceful of sand is now concerned about her.

Rebecca could use a shoulder to cry on, truth be told.

“I just,” she starts, tries her best to prop herself back up because she’s about to vent out her problems to someone she's just met and she's going to be civil about it at least. “I really need a job, you know. The kind of really that makes you want to curl up and sleep for ages every time you think about it.”

“That’s great!”

Now the kid is positively beaming and Rebecca doesn’t even have the time to wonder whether or not should she feel offended before he grabs her by the hands, eyes pinning her down with the same sheer force she’s only ever seen in her father’s stare.

“Can you do, like, coffee stuff?” He asks, shouts even. “My family owns a coffee shop but we’re short on employees because Ace and I can’t make a decent coffee for shit, or that’s what Koala says at least. Can you make decent coffee?”

Rebecca blinks.

“I know how to make an espresso worth its name.”

The kid bolts straight back up and she finds herself following before she can even process what's going on.

 

.

 

Luffy (earlier he introduced himself with a handshake that felt more like someone had just tossed her in a washing machine, laughter bubbling up like soap) guides her to a part of the city she’s hardly ever been to, down streets narrow and paved with rocks glowing white, Rebecca’s oxfords clacking with each step.

When he stops it’s abrupt, energy suddenly dead in its tracks, head snapping up so fast Rebecca spends a terrified split second thinking he’s going to break his neck. Honestly, Luffy moves like he’s made of rubber.

“We’re here!” he announces, and Rebecca takes a moment to crane her neck too, take a good picture of what could become her actual work place.

It looks kind of quaint, soft with the particular brand of atmosphere some places come to radiate when the people who walk them do it with love in their tiptoes. There are flowers peppering the facade in a bunch of different colours, hanging from the painted windows above the coffee shop, swelling from the clay pots by the entrance.

There’s a wooden sign over the door, the word Baterilla carved in it in curly, slanted letters.

“My family lives up there.” Luffy’s voice snaps her back into reality, the smile curving around the way he says _family_ almost overwhelming, his fingers wrapped around Rebecca’s wrist all of sudden as he steps inside.

There are two women behind the counter and when they both smile at her Rebecca realizes she’s been holding her breath. Like diving in the water from somewhere really high, waiting for the smack of waves and skin clashing.

She deflates a bit, red already burning on her cheeks.

“I’ve got us a new employee!” Luffy declares, parades his (their, he still hasn’t let go of Rebecca’s wrist) way across the shop.

The woman on the right tilts her head just slightly, a strand of hair falling loose from her bandana. “Luffy, she’s…”

Rebecca’s stomach drops.

“It’ll be fine,” he cuts in, the same steel conviction he showed at the beach back in his eyes, and the woman bites down on her lower lip.

“Paula―” she tries to ask her coworker for help, but Luffy has already started dragging Rebecca down some stairs. Uh.

All Rebecca can hear before she nearly tumbles over is just mumbling, something along the lines of _it’ll be alright, Makino, it’ll be alright 'cause it’s him_ , then she hits her head against a doorframe.

“Oops,” Luffy offers, just as apologetic as he was earlier for the knapsack, “the door here is pretty tiny I guess.”

“You guess,” Rebecca deadpans, irritation simmering down a wee bit as he finally lets go of her.

What she sees once she steps into what she supposes to be the basement is enough to make her regret that speck of human contact, of grounding, of anything telling her that what she’s living right now is not a dream.

There’s a pool. And a counter and tables and chairs and people except some of them are not people, they’re…

“Yo!” Luffy’s voice makes them all turn their attention to them and now Rebecca could really use something to hold on because there’s a girl by the counter, a girl with cat ears that look disturbingly real, cat ears that have just _moved_ , gone flat over her head. She's got a tail too.

“Christ, Luffy,” she hisses, actually _hisses_ , and Rebecca is trying her best to put it in any possible other way but that’s what the cat girl is doing, hissing. “Again?”

“Well," mumbles the guy next to her, a hand scratching one of the small horns on his forehead, "Franky and Law were a good thing. Mostly."

God, Rebecca really wants to believe this is all a dream.

“They’re humans!” And now the cat girl looks like she’s ready to lunge at someone, anyone, tail grown around three sizes bigger. “We can’t just trust whoever he brings in!”

The guy (or whatever he is, it’s not like Rebecca’s got any intention of prying right now) looks like he’s about to snap back but stops with his mouth agape when the woman behind the counter clears her throat; everyone else in the room does the same.

“Rouge.”

Everyone but Luffy.

"Look, she was looking for a job and she said she can make actual espresso! Not that weird watery thing Sabo makes.”

“At least Sabo can brew coffee without blowing things up,” a seemingly, blessedly human girl standing behind the counter with Rouge retorts, not quite harsh but not benevolent either.

“Now, now.” Rouge’s voice sounds husky, swift and deadly like smoke in a fire, like she could wipe the world clean with a twist of her fingers. She’s got golden bracelets around her arms and freckles all over her skin. “Would you mind making me some coffee, little girl?”

Rebecca doesn't dwell on giving it a second thought.

 

.

 

Rouge gives her a name tag and a handmade ecru coloured apron with Baterilla embroidered on it. Koala (who is indeed as human as she seems, thank God) gives her a nickname that goes viral in the span of a few hours.

And Rebecca is grateful, really, but it all feels like it’s a bit too much to process, like she was dumped on a rollercoaster with no warning whatsoever, no time to place the whole of her life and personal beliefs back together.

She’s working, and that’s good.

She’s working in a coffee shop that’s actually a hangout for every sort of magical creature she can think of and that’s… peculiar, at the least.

“You’ll be fine,” Koala tells her on her third day at Baterilla, her third day on pins and needles. “Everyone likes you already, Becca.”

Rebecca would like to ask her to define _likes you_ , but the way Koala’s eyes go warm and reassuring and honest as she calls her Becca like they’re long-time friends is probably already enough of an explanation.

They both stay quiet for a while, the chatter of their clients filling up the space like a flock of birds rising from the ground, and suddenly it’s as if the rollercoaster ride has come to its end in a clinking of brakes, the horizon back where it should be.

Rebecca blinks the light out of her eyes.

“Thank you,” she says, giggles along Koala’s laughter for the first time.

 

.

 

Tashigi is pretty sure every single muscle in her body hurts.

She’s been running around all day, chasing after _something_ , and it’s been months already but she still has no idea what in the world is she actually chasing after.

Her werewolf sense of smell and reflexes have never been more useless, though the certain something smells differently each time she’s been able to run into it and that’s already a hint, a possibility of the unknown culprit actually being a group of unknown culprits.

Tashigi dreads it.

Next to her Smoker grunts out a puff of cigar smoke, his own way of telling her to set work aside for once; it’s almost comical coming from him.

She complies anyway, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth when Baterilla appears in front of them.

It’s a tradition by now, it’s been so since she was a staggering pup with nothing but bared fangs, Smoker and Rouge both strong enough not to care in the slightest. It’s a tradition and she holds it dear, knows Smoker does the same despite all the grumbling and growling he pulls up.

He’s still the one who starts walking there first every time.

“Here come the big bad wolves,” Paula sing-songs through a smirk, her personal way of saying hello. “There’s a newcomer down there so try not to scare her off, will ya.”

Tashigi raises an eyebrow, nearly misses the first stairstep. “Uh?”

_The epitome of eloquence_ , she chides herself mentally, grateful for Paula’s lack of reaction. Then again, it’s not new of the people at Baterilla to cut each other as much slack as needed when the situation calls for it.

Meaning Tashigi might or not look way more of a walking trainwreck than previously thought.

“Duly noted,” Smoker mumbles beside her, half-hearted in a way that makes it clear just how much he’d rather not scare the life out of whoever this newcomer might be.

She spots her as soon as he opens the door: tall, hair a vibrant pink against the poor lighting of the basement, definitely human. Positively freaked out at the moment.

It dawns upon her now that she and Smoker are both still wearing their uniforms, police uniforms, and that what goes on in the basement of Baterilla is not exactly the most legal of things.

“The usual,” she announces, dips her head at Koala. The newcomer’s shoulders relax considerably.

Things fall back into routine after that, her palms warm against the cup of chai latte the newcomer (Rebecca reads the name tag, Becca says everyone in the room) handed her with much steadier hands than Tashigi would’ve given her credit for. Smoker already has half a dozen children dangling from his limbs, nestled by his feet.

They ask for stories like newborn birds ask for food.

Then there’s something fuzzy brushing against her arm and, well, that’s part of the whole routine thing too in a way.

“Hi, burglar.”

Perched on the stool next to hers Nami purrs her personal version of a sociable laugh. “Hello, officer. Rough time at work today?”

Tashigi knows this is both her way of getting information from the other side and to genuinely ask if she’s alright; she’s never had it in her to point out the contradiction.

She shrugs.

"Chased that weird thing around again," she offers. "Fell down a tree. Everything hurts."

When the snickering doesn't come Tashigi turns around, catches a glimpse of pursed white lips before Nami snatches her chai latte and downs what's left of it in one go.

"Hey!" she yelps, doesn't miss the way Nami's tail twitches. "That was mine."

Nami doesn't look at her when she speaks.

" _Was_ , indeed."

 

.

 

She smells her before she hears her, tangerine and a faint trace of milk coffee tickling her nose; her footsteps are impossible to hear anyway when she puts some effort into it.

"Thought this house reeked too much of dog for your taste," Tashigi tells to the general direction of the smell. A few seconds later Nami peeks out from the tree in front of her.

"It does and I'm _dying_ ," she retorts, no real bite in it. "Smoker makes it like a hundreds times worse, I swear—"

"Smoker-san is a very clean werewolf," Tashigi cuts in, kneejerk reaction, ties that run deep. "And he's family."

"Right, that."

Now Nami's kind of stalling, visibly so, like a cat who climbed too high and doesn't know how to land back on its feet. It makes Tashigi's stomach churn just slightly.

When she talks, she's still not looking at her for the second time that day.

"You shouldn't focus too much on those thefts."

The way she says it makes Tashigi square up, instincts _yelling_ inside of her, skin tingling. She pushes the wolf back down though, wills it silent because she knows she ought to listen.

"They're petty stuff you said, right?" And Nami is finally looking at her again, pupils wide in the dim light of the lampposts nearby. "Must be some bored tanuki, nothing worth you breaking your back chasing after."

"I... choose not to take that as in insult."

Tashigi knows she's said the right thing the moment Nami's ears snap back up, laughter buzzing low in her throat.

"Well then, sleep well, officer." And with that she's off, the smell of tangerines and milk coffee trailing behind her like breadcrumbs.

Tashigi decides she likes herself better as a wolf than a crow.


	2. there's a restlessness in me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! chapter two is finally up!   
> this one was pretty fun to write (albeit so Short) but i must say deciding the way law refers to luffy (both when he's thinking and when he's talking) was a bit of a Struggle... in the end i'm satisfied with how it came out tho!  
> also, there's a typo (i am ashamed) and i can't draw for shit but [this](https://twitter.com/machiyamidori/status/643876777165721601) is how rebecca's days at baterilla go by

Truth be told, Law has never been good at the whole presents thing.

He’s good at reading people, even too good maybe (never the best though, that’s something he’s more than happy to leave in the hands of a certain woman down a basement), but it all betrays him whenever birthdays or holidays draw close.

It’s going to be his sister’s birthday in a week and he’s currently standing in the middle of the nearest book shop, disheartened and utterly at loss.

She’s the one of the only two people capable of making him feel so much like somebody took the ground away from below his feet like a tablecloth in a fancy magic show, the other being Luffy, and while he might be okay with it, he’s still allowed to a certain degree of annoyance.

It’s either that or admitting defeat once and for all.

He knows Lamie loves books, he sees her curled on the armchair in their living room each day, sunlight dancing on the pages, casting shadows on the hollows of her face. He knows she’s always smiling when she reads.

What he doesn’t know, given the speed Lamie goes through her readings, is whether or not she’s already read everything in the book shop or if there’s hope for him to find something, somewhere.

“You’ve been looking at that Norland anthology like you’re trying to set it on fire.”

The voice is sudden, enough to make his shoulders jerk up and his breath crumple into a terrible, choked noise, but the laughter that follows is familiar enough that he can’t even begin feeling mortified.

Next to him stands Nico Robin, possibly the most inexplicable client Baterilla has ever had.

“Long time no see,” she offers, smile an olive branch for the scare she knows she’s given him. Always overly polite, always in the most unusual ways.

Not that Law can say anything on the matter anyway.

“Was I staring that hard?”

That’s by far not the brightest remark he could’ve come up with but Robin is nothing but graceful and maybe if he’s lucky he might get away with it unscathed. For once.

“Like you had some kind of personal grudge against Norland himself.” And now she is giving him a grin wry enough to make his skin crawl in fear. “Do you?”

So long to the unscathed.

He knows there’s no right answer to that, or at least not an answer he can think of, so he settles for silence, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Then there are fingers prying his hands open, gently, and a book laid on his palms like a deadweight, a verdict.

“I believe your sister would like this one.”

Law figures he might as well accept it.

“Ah!” Robin starts, back already turned. “Baterilla’s got a new employee, a funny one. Thought you might be interested.”

Law’s thanks don’t make it to her ears, the book shop front door the only witness left.

 

.

 

Usually, if there’s not someone dragging him, he tries to keep away from Baterilla.

It’s nothing personal, more of a combination of lack of quiet and his aversion to crowded places, and no one pays it any mind (Luffy does complain from time to time but Law’s stopped worrying about his tantrums at the age of fifteen), no matter how hard some regulars might try to look offended every time he doesn’t show up for weeks.

He does trust Robin’s judgement though, so he doesn’t even bother pretending to be surprised when his feet bring him all the way to the shop and down to the bottom of the staircase.

The first thing he registers is that Luffy isn’t there, which has its ups and its downs. The second thing is that there’s a girl he’s never seen standing by the edge of the pool.

Then there’s a mermaid peeking out of the water too and it must be the first time the girl has seen it happen because Law doesn’t make it one step inside of the basement and she’s already jumped away, almost knocked down a table and dropped the tray she was carrying which would’ve crashed on the ground if it weren’t for Ace’s reflexes.

She doesn’t seem to have noticed any of it, eyes wide, glued to the pool like the whole world might collapse if she dares to look away for one bare second.

It reminds Law of the way he was back when he first arrived at Baterilla, hands still unsteady and a wounded crow pleading for his help.

Luffy had stayed by his side for the whole time back then.

“Ah, Law!”

He yanks himself back out of his memories, bandaid torn off his skin, and offers Sabo a nod of his head.

“I see your newbie just lost a few years of her life,” he muses low, thankful for the vacant stool he manages to steal for himself. Sitting on something that’s not the floor is never a given at Baterilla.

Sabo’s laughter is hushed, almost private, affection smoothing out its edges in a way that’s got Law wondering if he’s been away for too long, if he’s missed out too much.

But Sabo is giving him a smile that’s just as fond as he says, “Lamie’s birthday is getting closer, isn’t it?” and that’s enough for Law to feel like he’s there again, like it’s okay for him to be.

“Yeah.” If his voice sounds a bit off Sabo doesn’t seem to notice. “I got her present just now.”

“We should celebrate it here!”

He doesn’t know when did Ace sneak his way up to him but he sure does regret not noticing earlier, his doom dropping heavy on his shoulders when Koala perks up from a nearby table and joins in like they’re discussing some trip to Disneyland.

“We definitely should! Law, you have _no saying_ in this so stop making that face.”

He’s known her long enough to realize that by now there’s no possible turning back left for him.

 

.

 

Luffy’s weight is warm on his arm, drags him down with no regard whatsoever, presses against his side in the pale light of the convenience store.

“We should get more plastic cups,” he’s saying, voice quiet with concentration for once. “And more decorations and birthday hats and those things that make that funny noise when you blow them—”

“Strawhat.”

He stops at that, jerks his head back up with a smile that’s all teeth, and Law finds himself wondering why does he still call him like that after so many years. It’s probably out of nostalgia and old habits, the days when they used to play pirates making ships out of assorted furniture still vivid in both of their minds.

“Oh, _c’mon_.” Luffy’s tugging at his sleeve now, eyes alight the way they always are when he already knows he’s going to win an argument. “It’s Lamie’s birthday, right? Gotta make it memorable!”

“You just want an excuse to party, admit it.”

Law’s hissing is tucked under his breath, barely there, years of knowing Luffy and being known by Luffy turning exasperation into fondness, grass poking its way out of the snow.

And Luffy knows, he’s always known, which is why he merely laughs, hands still perched on Law’s arm, eyes still bright in the white neon light.

“Let’s get snacks next, Torao,” is all he says, all it takes for Law to lean against him as well and let his head slouch, heedful reciprocation.

He knocks his nose against Luffy’s forehead.

 

.

 

“You _swear_ you’re not selling drugs or something.”

Her father’s voice is starting to sound like a broken record, fake with the same thin coat of unreality words get when they’re said too many times.

Rebecca heaves out a sigh, the fifth in half an hour if her memory hasn’t started acting up out of sheer exhaustion already. “I swear I am not, indeed, selling drugs or something.”

“Then why!” Fists clenched, eyes searching for her mother’s help across the room. “It’s been weeks and we still don’t know a thing about your job.”

He’s right, after all. He’s right and Rebecca is wrong and she’s _aware_ of being wrong but she’s being racking her brain each day and so far there just doesn’t seem to be an acceptable way of breaking the news to her parents about her working at Baterilla.

_Hey, mom, dad, guess what? My boss runs an undercover magical coffee shop and I’m pretty sure half our clients could kill me in a split second if they wanted but it’s okay! They won’t!_

Sure, she could ask Rouge to let her work at the regular shop upstairs just for once, just for her parents to see, but that feels way too close to lying for her comfort; and there’s always the possibility of her dad dropping at Baterilla every now and then to do his best impression of a doting father (which he actually is, no need to put up an act) just to realize Rebecca isn’t there.

Her groan stops halfway through her teeth when she feels her mother’s fingers on her shoulder.

“I didn’t know you had so little faith in your daughter, Kyros,” Riku Scarlett says, radiant in all her saving grace, an edge in her frown that’s enough to make both Rebecca and her father go still. “She probably doesn’t want you to keep loitering around like we all know you would, right?”

It takes Rebecca a moment to feel like it’s safe to move again, like she won’t get fed to the beasts for as much as uttering a sound, but her mom is smiling her subtle, secretive smile at her and she can’t help but smile back, wide like a child.

“Exactly,” she declares, almost snickers at the way her father’s face crumples in disbelief. “That would be _so bad_ for my reputation, maybe they’d even fire me.”

Her father’s protests sound muffled to her ears, drowned by the sound of her mother’s laugh and the rumbling of her guilt.

 

.

 

Baterilla feels weird with no one there, the basement empty and silent, waiting, and Rebecca would probably find it a bit eerie if it weren’t for the fact that it’s the first time Rouge has entrusted her with closing up.

It makes her feel kind of proud, not that she would never say it aloud.

“Aah, I love staying after everyone’s gone away.”

Shirahoshi’s voice does manage to startle her though, but if Rebecca squeaks out loud they both settle for not mentioning it.

“It gets so peaceful,” Shirahoshi continues instead, elbows perched on the edge of the pool, voice as quiet as the ripples her tail makes in the water.

Rebecca hums, grateful for still having a couple glasses to wash; she still has some trouble wrapping her mind around the fact that the girl in front of her is a mermaid, a princess even.

It’s quite a lot to process, to be the one who gets to make frappuccino for a mermaid princess.

But she’s getting better, getting used to it, Baterilla seeping through her skin little by little, dyeing her vision in colours so bright it takes her breath away sometimes.

Shirahoshi shimmers in pink and blue by the other side of the room and Rebecca’s run out of glasses.

“So, uh,” she starts, shuffles past the counter with tentative steps. “Rouge-san told me I need to put that net on the pool before I go.”

They’re both eyeing said net now, neatly folded in a corner and looking deadlier than usual. It’s the weirdest net she’s ever seen, actually, hooks and spikes sewn tight into the heavy, iron ropes.

“That thing looks _nasty_ ,” Rebecca states, almost falters when Shirahoshi laughs out.

“Smells even nastier, believe me.”

It takes her a glance at Rebecca’s probably very disoriented expression to add, “anti-merfolk and fishfolk spells, that thing’s coated in them. Theyㅡ they smell bad.”

She’s scrunching up her nose and there’s water dripping from her bangs and Rebecca knows the pool is connected directly to the sea, vast and dangerous sea, but she can’t help but ask.

“Why?”

Shirahoshi makes a face, the line of her lips thin with chagrin.

“It’s scarier than you think out there,” she murmurs, then, “but it’s okay! We don’t resent Rouge-san for not trusting the sea.”

And the smile she gives Rebecca is nothing but honest, washing over her like the rising tide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from 'white nights', by oh land


	3. lights are gonna find me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter three is out, sorry for the wait!!  
> i always think about what to say in the notes beforehand but then i manage to forget all about it... which happened last chapter too, considering i forgot to specify shirahoshi is a 'normal' sized mermaid in this au! she gotta fit in a basement after all.  
> that said, this chapter made me realize that i can't write parties and that's unfortunate.  
> there's hinted conis/laki at some point (sorry if that's not your thing) and also a direct reference to japanese folklore and the fox's wedding.  
> i think i said it all? i bet i'll remember something as soon as i post this but for now have a nice time reading!!!

In her life as a police officer and a werewolf Tashing has hardly faced anything as inherently chaotic as the people of Baterilla when they’ve set their minds on throwing a party.

It’s an experience, fierce and refreshing like a storm in the middle of summer, but it kills her senses nonetheless, loud noise ringing even louder in her wolf ears.

She’s currently got a killer headache and flour up to her elbows.

All around her there’s tables assembled together, chairs piled up against the walls, people chattering and baking. (Or pretending to, it depends on how close to Rouge’s range they are.)

“Why did I even come,” she finds herself mumbling, the perspective of her day off spent in the quiet of her room suddenly more appealing than ever.

Next to her Vivi laughs, a sway of her hair leaving a trail of frost all over Tashigi’s left arm.

“ _Ohana_ means family,” she recites, a glint in her smile that makes Tashigi wonder just how much does she know of all the times she’s made Smoker watch _Lilo and Stitch_ with her as a child. “And family means you’ve got to keep an eye on your bunch of overgrown children when they decide to have a baking competition despite being incapable of frying an egg without causing a wildfire.”

“Orㅡ” Tashigi’s voice is a growl, low and hoarse, the voice that makes criminals rattle in their seats but merely scratches the grin off the cat burglar below the table. “To keep an eye on the ones who can’t seem to let go of their bad habits.”

Nami makes a face at her, tail swinging in annoyance.

“ _Ohana_?” she offers, and that’s enough to make Vivi’s laughter so loud it makes a cloud pop above her head, humidity making the air around them heavier.

Somewhere in the basement Chopper sneezes.

“It’s just some dough!” Nami continues, her idea of _some dough_ probably including everything she can reach, plus some more. “And Luffy is doing it too, look over there.”

Tashigi can’t help but groan. “Nice try, but I’m not going to take my eyes off you till you go pestering somebody else.”

She’s known Nami long enough to realize how hard she’s slipped as soon as the words leave her mouth; she doesn’t even have the time to regret it, let alone to think her way out of it.

It’s not like it’d be possible anyway, to be fair.

“That was _smooth_ , officer,” Nami drawls, eyes lidded in the way she knows will make the wolf arch in Tashigi’s spine.

“I didn’t mean it likeㅡ” Tashigi stops, cringes at the way her voice sounds several octaves higher than usual, at how deeply red her face must be right now. “Oh, forget it. And _stop_ winking at me, there are children here.”

“For some of your dough, I’ll stop.”

Rouge’s voice saves them both from what might have easily degenerated into a food fight (and food fights at Baterilla are never a good idea, no matter what, under no possible circumstances), calm and soft, yet capable of resonating through the whole basement clear like a ringing bell.

“Ah, we’re out of milk…” she says, and that’s the way out Tashigi’s been seeking for the whole time.

“I’ll go get some!”

It’s more of a shout than she wanted it to be but Rouge doesn’t seem to think much of it, a pensive look weighting down her frown. “Are you sure? There’s a downpour outside.”

Her headache is still killing her and Nami is still crouched at her feet, looking like she’s having the time of her life.

“I have a rain jacket.”

 

.

 

“You know, you don’t really have to come with me.”

She can’t help the snigger seeping through her words, not when Nami is standing in front of her in the pouring rain, scowling at the clouds above her like they’re the most insulting thing she’s ever seen.

She’s got her hood pulled carefully over her ears, tail wrapped around her waist under her coat; the most human attire she can manage. Tashigi wonders how uncomfortable that must be.

“I’m only coming to make sure you don’t trip and drown in a puddle.” Her voice sounds almost too displeased to have any trace of credibility, and they’re both aware of the fact that neither of them considers it a real insult. “Of course I’m expecting strawberry milk as a reward for my services.”

“Sure, sure.” And this time Tashigi is laughing out loud, no scoff in it, laughing till Nami is beside her, jabbing her right between the ribs.

It doesn’t hurt, the crooked twist of Nami's lips as she bites down on them giving her away.

“Quit that, or I’ll make it two cans of strawberry milk,” she’s muttering, water dripping from the hem of her hood down the tip of her nose, smile swallowed back only halfway, and Tashigi can’t but cave in.

“You should ask Vivi a refund too by the way, I’m pretty sure this is all her people’s doing.”

Under the cloth, Nami’s ears twitch.

“I’ve tried that countless times already, but apparently there’s no going against the _rightful flow of the weather_. The refund is all on you.”

She falls silent for a moment, the wait between a lightning and its thunder, then, “say, wanna race?”

Tashigi knows better than waiting for her to play fair.

 

.

 

Nami beats her, of course.

The clerk at the shop gives them both a disapproving look (they’re soaked from head to toe, the mat by the entrance not much of a big help to get the mud off their shoes) but lets them get their milk anyway, together with a can of strawberry one and warm coffee for Tashigi.

They buy an umbrella too; it would’ve been two umbrellas but Tashigi’s wallet barely coughed out enough money for their errand and asking Nami would be pointless no matter how bad the weather.

At least this one’s got a cute pattern printed on it.

“Well, this sucks.” Nami’s words are muffled by her taking a sip of her so called refund, lighthearted in a way that doesn’t really match their meaning. “Guess it’s better if we wait for the rain to calm down a bit.”

“Following the rightful flow of the weather?”

“Please spare me.”

Now they’re laughing together, no trying to hide it, and the coffee burns on Tashigi’s tongue not as bitter as it’s supposed to. She resorts to blaming Rebecca’s skills for that.

“Oh!” Nami sounds as if she’s just choked on her milk, which is perfectly plausible given the way she’s looking up and hopping from foot to foot. “It was today!”

One look at the sky, clear with sunlight and drizzle in hues of yellow and pink, is enough to make Tashigi start too.

“That’s why there were no _kitsune_ today…”

Nami giggles, not one bit guilty about forgetting something as big as a friend’s wedding.

“We should go congratulate them later, I bet Laki’s been a nervous wreck all day.”

Tashigi allows herself a grin, one hand already texting Smoker that she will be back later than previously thought. “As if seeing you could make things better.”

“Hey! Who’s the one who helped her woo Conis?”

She’s about to point out how unorthodox and borderline ruthless Nami’s wooing methods turned out to be that time but a thief is a thief after all and she’s just got her umbrella stolen, Nami happily skedaddling away with it, dancing her way around the puddles.

When Tashigi runs up to her she hums, knocks their shoulders together.

The absence of her usual wet dog jokes only hits Tashigi hours later.

 

.

 

Law doesn’t really get why does the party have to stay a secret until they get there.

He’s taking his sister to the place she’s usually the one dragging him to and it’s going to be her birthday at midnight: he couldn’t picture anything more obvious.

Given the looks she’s been casting in his general direction from time to time, Lamie must think pretty much the same but she knows him, and she knows she won’t get anything but noncommittal grunts if she asks so they’re both keeping quiet.

She’s sure judging him though.

Corazòn trails behind them with unsteady feet, crow out of his element, filling the space in between their steps with endless small talk. Law doesn’t know whether he’s doing it on purpose or out of sheer good mood (could be both or could be neither with Corazòn) but he still makes a mental note of thanking him later.

When they make it to Baterilla there are balloons all around the front door that scream _Luffy’s idea_ and _subtlety is but a myth_ from every inch of their cheap plastic. Law makes a second mental note, this one remarkably less good natured.

Lamie is still laughing out loud by the time they make it inside but it gets kind of choked out when Law opens the basement door for her, washed away by the roar of every single person they could fit in shouting their happy birthday in a mismatched choir.

“Damn, I told you guys it’s not actually her birthday till midnight!” Koala’s voice is almost shrill over the chaos, badly suppressed fury burning low in her eyes. “Midnight! Which is in four hours!”

If Lamie had gotten a bit teary eyed before, which she definitely did, she’s quick to hide it and crack a grin that’s all teeth (sometimes Law wonders if she’s learnt that from Luffy, if growing up with the family of Baterilla stretched their mouths as much as their minds), then flings herself towards the crowd.

The next few minutes are a flurry of bone-crushing hugs and pats on the back, of shouted greetings and congratulations, the noise ringing loud up against the ceiling and into Law’s ears like a song of cicadas in the dead of summer.

At some point Luffy makes his way to his side, mouth and hands already full of food he most likely didn’t help one bit making, and Law lets him nudge him to a table where he’s kept a chair for him. The price is Luffy sitting atop of said table but that’s nothing new and no one seems to mind.

Next to Luffy there’s a tray overflowing with snacks and a couple of bottles that look ready to drop and meet their downfall on the floor with every movement he makes.

Midnight will never come too soon.

 

.

 

In the end midnight hits him from behind, wild and unashamed, Lamie’s arms around his neck and the smack of a kiss on his cheek, slurred words that sound more or less like he’s the best big brother in the universe.

He wants to tell her that this wasn’t his idea, that she should thank someone else, but it all gets lost as she gets twirled around by someone else, the glint in her eyes still mirrored in his.

Rouge’s quiet chuckling right beside him is unexpected but not surprising (he knows just how _everywhere_ she can be when she wants to, he’s learnt not to underestimate her years ago when she outplayed a rowdy bunch of kids at hide and seek something like twenty times in a row), the look she gives him as warm as the one Lamie was wearing earlier.

“Quite a nice party, huh?” she hums, steers him away from the crowd with nothing but a nudge to his arm. “I’m very proud of how the birthday cake came out, you should have a slice later.”

Law nods, half-hearted agreement, the perspective of tackling the wall of people in front of him making his feet feel heavy already.

“Ah, your son is about to fall in the pool,” he points out, and Rouge merely raises an eyebrow.

“Which one?” Then she laughs, louder as Luffy’s helpless yelping reaches them. “Amazing how none of you kids can swim for the life of yours.”

Law regrets this turn of the conversation as soon as a slightly tipsy Rebecca jerks her head towards him, mouth wide in disbelief. He’s not sure of how the hell did she manage to overhear them but he can’t manage to feel awed right now.

“You guys can’t _swim_?”

“I can float―”

“They can’t swim,” Rouge cuts him out, merciless, and that makes Rebecca look dangerously determined.

“I’ll teach them!” she declares, chest puffed out like a ruffled up bird.

Law thinks he should stop coming to Baterilla altogether if he wants to live long.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from 'super trouper' by abba


	4. better run for the hills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaahh i'm so sorry!!! this is so Late ugh i'm ashamed... school started again and it's already sucking all of my energy + time + inspiration away, how lovely.  
> that said and me being v much sorry again, here's chapter four!   
> the atmosphere for this one is kinda different since there's Stuff happening and there's a pretty concrete chance next chapter will be the last tbh.  
> i think i will miss writing abt this au?? i got so attached even tho writing it can be quite a chore rip bUT ANYWAY im sosososo thankful for all you ppl who've read and appreciated it so far!!!! thanks a bunch!!  
> have a nice reading <3

 

It dawns upon Law just how much of a bad idea he’s agreed to as soon as he sees the expression on Rebecca’s face, far too thrilled for someone who’s made them all ( _all_ being just Luffy and him in the end, with the welcome and most likely necessary company of Shirahoshi as their personal lifeguard) wake up at 5 a.m. to teach them how to swim.

“We’re going to freeze,” is all he greets her with, and it earns him a glare as cold as the water he’s probably about to get dumped into. “We’re going to freeze and get pneumonia.”

Rebecca waves him off with a twist of her wrist, something in the way she seems to tower above him that reminds Law a bit too much of his sister when she’s angry.

“You’re a doctor, don’t say such things.”

“Yeah!” Luffy cuts in before Law’s got the time to tell her that’s exactly the kind of thing as a doctor he’s supposed to say, “don’t say such things, Torao, the water’s already getting warmer!”

“It’s May. It’s literally the middle of May, the water’s _not_ getting warmer anytime soon―”

He stops talking when he hears Shirahoshi laughing from behind him, they all kind of do, and Law takes a moment to look at the way Rebecca’s eyes go wide, startled, then soft like the early morning stretching its arms around them. He knows he looked exactly the same when he first met Luffy, wonders if he still does from time to time.

“... Anyway.” Now Rebecca sounds quieter, her voice slow like it’s lagging behind her thoughts, sluggish like the water lapping at the shore. It doesn’t mean Law can lower his guard just yet.

“Safety comes first, so I brought a few things from when I was younger.”

The slant of her lips as she says _younger_ is enough to make him shudder again, his worst fears now right in front of his eyes taking the form of a swim ring covered in the brightest, most clashing floral pattern he’s ever seen and a pair of neon pink water wings.

“I’m not wearing those,” he says the same exact moment Luffy shouts, “I get the swim ring!”

Rebecca shoots him a smile that drips fake sympathy (she’s having too much fun, Luffy’s having too much fun, the whole world is having too much fun at Law’s expense right now) as she hands him the water wings.

“You are _so_ wearing them,” she coos, and Law knows he is.

 

.

 

The water wings barely make it past his elbows after a good ten minutes of painful plastic squeaking against skin and by the time he’s done Rebecca and Luffy are both breathless from laughing too much, eyes bright red and cheeks sore.

They do get something done in the end though, and if the water feels freezing cold at first Luffy’s constant attempts at sabotaging either of them (or both, actually) make him forget about it quickly enough. Rebecca even turns out to be something like a good teacher and by the time Shirahoshi has to get away from the shore (she looks frightened for a second, restless like a trapped animal, and that’s all it takes for Law’s perspective to shift, to remember what humans are capable of doing) they can all follow her just fine.

Then Luffy’s suddenly asking for a lunch break and there’s harsh sunlight washing all over Law’s face, piercing through the water.

It’s while they’re eating that Rebecca says, “that’s quite a scar you’ve got there.”

It makes Law cringe, even more so because Luffy smiles like everything’s alright, like the memory’s lost any chance to faze him with the passing of time.

Sometimes Law wishes he had half his resolve, half his yearning for something better, something _ahead_.

“Isn’t it!” Luffy nods, fingers tapping on the rough skin of his chest, the rough skin Law himself had to stitch back together as best as he could. “Got it a few years ago, Ace and I were fighting a demon.”

It would be funny to watch as Rebecca’s expression stiffens, surprise taking over her posture; it would if Law weren’t feeling just as _scared_ after all.

“You know,” Luffy continues, voice quieter now, because he might be reckless when it comes to himself but never when it’s about Ace, never when it’s about family, “Ace’s got a really strong magic in him, he’s just like Rouge. Sometimes it’s kinda troublesome.”

Now Rebecca looks so tense Law wonders when is she going to snap, but she keeps silent and Luffy goes on.

“So one day we were together when this demon found us and Ace smelled good, right, we both smelled good to him.”

He pauses, nose wrinkled up, and that’s all Law could ever take.

“It’s a miracle they made it back home in one piece,” he mutters, tells himself that it’s all in the past, that there’s no blood under his fingernails anymore, that they’re all _alive_ and it’s all that matters.

“But it’s alright now!” Luffy echoes him aloud, puffs his chest out as he ruffles Rebecca’s hair. “We’ve got Shakky to help us with spells to keep the bad guys away and she’s the best with those!”

“She’s been casting some on you too since you started working at Baterilla,” Law adds, and the hard lines on Rebecca’s face soften just barely. “We all reek of protective spells, pretty gross.”

When she laughs it doesn’t sound genuine.

 

.

 

It’s on a quiet, new moon night that Tashigi finds out.

She’s been restless all day, promise of a pitch black sky slowly draining the energy away from her, pulling it from underneath her skin, replacing with the ever-familiar crawling that keeps her up all night month after month.

She’s been restless and she knows Smoker has too, so she’s let her feet drag her out of the house and down streets coloured neon white by the light of the lampposts, flocks of moths casting shaky shadows from above.

That’s when she hears it, hushed but not enough for her ears, and it’s so clear it makes her blood freeze.

“Mocha! I thought I’d told you guys to _stop_ ,” Nami’s voice is whispering, and it couldn’t be anyone else’s, not when Tashigi’s spent years listening to it the way birds listen to the early rustles of the sun.

Then there are voices she can’t recognize chiming up, filling in the gaps, trying to talk all at once; they’re voices of children and they reel her in, instinct taking over.

She follows them to an abandoned house alone in the middle of an abandoned yard, weeds poking out of the cracks in the walls and an old tree covering half the second floor with its branches.

Tashigi climbs it up.

She knows she’s gotten too close when the voices stop but she edges further anyway, stretches over till she reaches the window in front of her, the window Nami’s currently staring up at her from.

Behind her there’s a quivering bunch of children curled on the ground, something that looks way too much like stolen goods towering in the middle of the room, shimmering in the faint light in a way that makes Tashigi’s stomach lurch.

“What is this,” she hears herself asking, voice flat, and it’s jarring when Nami glares at her with fright in her eyes, fright and distrust and a thousand things Tashigi would’ve never wanted to see.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here,” Nami hisses, dodges the question, and Tashigi doesn’t have anything to offer either. This is not their usual game of tag between cat burglar and police officer, this is not their comfort zone and every inch of her body is torn between barging in regardless of whatever unspoken accord she and Nami have going on (it’s not like they haven’t just broken it anyway) and turning her back and run.

“You’re not answering,” she says instead, doesn’t move because she doesn’t trust herself with it, not yet, not when Nami’s eyes are piercing through her skin down to her bones like she’s a stranger, a threat.

Some of the children are turning into _tanuki_ now, fear shaking on the tips of their ears, and that’s how it all clicks, the other shoe dropping right on Tashigi’s shoulders like a dead weight.

“This is why you told me not to bother that time, isn’t it.” She’s moving again now, one foot firm on the edge of the window, body ready to leap ahead, anger prickling her feet. “Because it was _you_.”

“It wasn’t her!” one of the children yelps out, small fingers clenched in small fists, not a hint of fear in her voice. “Nami’s always telling us to let her take care of everything but she works too hard, it’s unfair!”

After that it’s all an uproar of children jumping in Nami’s defense, of teeth bared and unspoken accusations until Nami snaps.

She growls once and it’s enough to bring the silence back, enough for Tashigi to hesitate again.

“It was me because you all are in my care,” she says, quieter than Tashigi was expecting, head bowed low, too low. “And I can’t get a proper job.”

A pause, bitterness barely swallowed back down, then, “not everyone’s been taught how to shapeshift properly and parade as a human.”

_Not everyone’s got the chance to grow up with someone who was just like them_ is what Tashigi hears, what she’s meant to hear and understand and acknowledge, and that’s what she does because she knows just how true it is, knows how heavy the memories from before she’d met Smoker still feel.

“I’m going to teach you,” she states, wills her voice loud enough it makes Nami wince in surprise, tail cutting through the air as she takes a step back.

“As your friend,” she adds, rushed and lower, there for Nami to make whatever she wants out of it.

Nami offers her half a smile and there’s lingering sadness peeking out from below her lips, children clinging to her legs.

 

.

 

“Do I smell good?”

The words slip past her before she’s got the time to rephrase them and Rebecca is thankful Rouge is the only other person around to hear.

“I mean!” She kind of squeaks out, red already burning on her skin. “I meanㅡ do I smell good for demons?”

She hates it how her voice trails off as she speaks, how worry makes her throat hurt and arch. Hates the look in Rouge’s eyes too.

“You don’t have a single ounce of magic in you, my dear,” Rouge says, quiet as the dust dancing circles around them. “The smell of Baterilla doesn’t cling to you much either, thanks to Shakuyaku’s doing.”

She doesn’t try to explain her who Shakuyaku might be, just smiles like she knows exactly what made Rebecca ask in the first place and maybe it’s just like that, maybe she does know, somehow. Rebecca wouldn’t put it past her, she’s learnt not to underestimate people in a handful of months.

“I’m assuming,” Rouge continues, smile now softer with understanding, wider with pride, “that your parents don’t smell at all either, if that’s what you were worried about.”

Rebecca’s shoulders slump down in relief and it makes her cringe, how easy to read she is, how _blatant_ she’s being about this.

To her boss, of all people.

“Me working here doesn’t put them in any danger.”

She tries each sound out, rolls the letters down her tongue and under her teeth, sees how much truth is left clinging to her mouth after she’s spelled it out loud.

Rouge nods once, the gold around her neck swaying in tune. “Exactly.”

They both look at the dust that’s still piling up all around them in a haze of whites and washed out yellows, then there’s a hand curled on the small of Rebecca’s back, spark under a pile of ashes.

“Even so, you could always take them here for a coffee, were you to wish to raise their… awareness.”

The hand is gone in a second but Rebecca can hear the _you don’t have to hide it from them if you don’t want_ to by herself anyway and when she smiles it makes her cheeks split in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from 'jackrabbit' by san fermin


End file.
